Copyright: Janet Webb
As I look upon the old barn, whose windows gave no light to the darkness within. Lies and deceit, crumbling all around me as I remain like the white picket fence, standing on what’s left of His death.
I’m surrounded by lies, and deception trying to pull me down. What was meant to harm me, He changed for my good. The vines became my vines of hope, holding me up.
I thought that barn was once filled with loving friends, but they were my enemies. Like an empty barn with no foundation, crumbling like ashes of lies, entangled in hidden deceit.